Fun at the film festival
by niudara
Summary: Iggy and France meet at a film festival and fuck.


Author's note: We wrote this to train our wrting abilities. Warning: Our french is horrible and we basically don't know anything about film festivals in Le Mans. Enjoy(?)/ R&R

Hetalia belongs to Himaruya.

Arthur nervously fixed his long haired wig and his black, back-to-the-future-style leather jacket, part of the brilliant disguise he wore to the 52nd film festival in Le Mans, a small city _in France_. If everything went according to the plan no one would recognize him, otherwise it would be highly embarassing, seeing as he pretends to despise everything about the other country.

The truth was, that even though England and France fought all the time they still had quite a bit of respect for the other one. France respected England for his fighting abilities and finances, England respected France for his culture, which is exactly why he was here.

He walked through the city center watching pieces of different films, admiring the atmosphere and architecture.

Most of the films were french because the wine drinking bastard was obviously an egocentric prick, unable to aprechiate the beauty of things not concerning his country. Suddenly a familiar theme song catched his attention- his eyes widened and he gasped slightly as he realised that one of the screens was showing 'Philomena', an award winning _English _film. Staring in awe he lost himself in the fascinating story of the 70 years old Philomena Lee who searches her illegitimate son together with the journalist Martin Sixsmith when the credits of the film rolled over the display he felt someone grabbing his wrist and spinning him around quickly. „L'angleterre! Quelle surprise! J'ai su que je connais ces sourcils. Ohonhonhonohon." „Let go of my hands you french bastard." the Brit snapped. Then he first realized that Francis was disguised, too. He was wearing some horrible German leather trousers together with a squared turtle neck. Iggy burst out in laughter. „Do you plan on moving to Bavaria or something? Or is your fashion sense currently on leave?" „Very funny, mon chèr. My people are out of sorts with me at the moment, so they shouldn't recognize me. Besides you wearing a terrible wig yourself." „Whatever frog." Arthur mumbled. After that he remembered his manners and tried to start a proper conversation. „I was truly surprised that you were showing an English film." „Well, in my country, festivals are about l'amour. So we thought we'd show l'amour to our neighbours and pick some decent English film." „Decent? You have to admit, it's a beautiful masterpiece in every single way." „Oui, c'est vrai, j'aime beaucoup l'action de les characteres." „Wait, so did you just acknowledge that it's a magnificent piece of art, that outdoes every single one of your so called 'films'?" „Biensûr, c'est qu'est-ce que j'ai dit. Le film est très beau comme tout d'angleterre. Ohonhonhonohon." „What? Don't talk complete utter crap you bastard." „Je n'ai pas dit merde. C'est la vérite, mon petit rosbif." England blushed furiously trying not to get flustered but failing. „S-stop shitting me! Everyone can see, that I-i'm not beautiful.. I've got these giant eyebrows, my hair's a mess a-and I'm scrawny like a five-year-old." „Non, mon petit lapin. You are very pretty! The eyebrows are an important part of your face and you'd look even more stupid without any hair at all." „Bloody moron!" „I'm just kidding Arthur. Your hair is only a mess, if you're wearing this horrible wig." with these words said, he gently swiped the wig off his head and lovingly messed up his soft, blond hair. „What are you doing?" „What does it feel like?" „Lice. _French _lice." Francis faked a hurt look. „Now you're being rude, mon amour." „I'm not. I'm being a perfect gentlemn.." Arthur started to rant, but the frenchman leaned in and cut him off, with a kiss.

The Brit tensed and stubbornly kept his lips shut at first but slowly he started to relax into the touch. Francis cupped his face with both hands, caressing his cheeks before letting one of them slid through Arthus's hair once again. He tenderly licked the proud nations bottom lip asking for permission to enter which was granted soon. Smoothly, his experienced tongue explored Iggy's mouth, battling for dominance, enjoying the feeling of what he had wanted to do for a long time. A _very _long time, he was used to getting the jackpot faster than after such a long conversation. Moving away from his lips he began to suck at the englishman's neck, leaving marks to show his territory. But when he tried to free the smaller man from his clothes the last mentioned stopped him: „ Okay frog. I might be willing to do this, but I have two conditions.. First: This is not a one night stand, I don't want to be treated like some cheap whore. And second: I don't necessarily think this is the right place for.. _such activities._." „Let's get away from here then." he didn't comment the one-night-stand-thing.

Arthur noticed the lack of this promise but he was afraid to ask, fearing that Francis would laugh at him. They soon found a wall that seemed to be suitable, not discovering the electronic device behing them. Finally getting undressed they started making out again, this time even slower, dirtier. The frenchman's hands traveled down Arthur's chest pinching his nipples slightly before moving on to the lower regions. He stroked the younger blond's arousal before kneeling down and taking it into his mouth. He let his tongue swirl around the tip sucking lightly at first, adding pressure and making Arthur moan. The Brit tried to push himself further between his lips pulling his hair. Francis complied, deepthroating him submissivly. The remembered, that he was the seme and moved from Arthur's cock to his entrance licking it a few times before reaching into his pocket and taking out some lube. He took his time stretching the englishman, using just one finger at first until he found the prostate. He brushed against it, causing the Brit to see stars before adding another finger scissoring them and hitting the prostate whenever Arthur seemed to be in pain. When the uke was a gasping mess he lubed himself up and carefully pushed in. Iggy felt like he was ripped into a thousand little British pieces, the frenchman was bigger than expected. Eventually the pain faded as the older blond found his prostate again. Trying different angles Francis aimed for the sweet spot with every thrust, he was determined to outlast Arthur.

The last mentioned apparently had the same intention but soon realized that he won't be able to hold it longer than for a few minutes, like the virgin he was.

He released over their chests, Francis continued pounding until he came, too. Pulling out, he whispered: „Je t'aime, sourcils." „Stupid frog." Arthur yelled relieved. Little did they know that due to the projector behind them the scene had been visible for everyone to see on the big screen.


End file.
